Expendable
by HuffynDK
Summary: Set after "Out of the Box". Hughes and Peter are able to use the OPR to swing about some changes in Neal's status. Unfortunately, no matter how much he tries, some people still refuse to see anything different in him. WARNING: SLASH/ESTABLISHED OT3
1. Chapter 1

EXPENDABLE

Neal tried to hide a yawn as he finished up the last of a seemingly endless supply of paperwork. He actually had enjoyed being handled by Peter instead of this new status as a true consultant/agent in training. When he was Neal Caffery, work release felon, there was a lot less paperwork that he had to do. Now he had to do requisitions, time sheets, expense reports, daily reports, and the sheer volume made him want to scream. Scream or head to the Met, rip off a picture, just so Peter and Hughes would be forced to return him to his previous, unpaperwork encumbered life. The paperwork wasn't even considering the classes and homework for the Academy. He still wondered how Hughes had gotten it arranged so that he could do long distance education without having to go to the academy, except for two weeks of field exercises coming up in September. Peter had groused that Neal should be exempt since he was in the field on a daily basis, but evidently even Quantico had limits to how far they would let themselves be pushed in this unusual arrangement.

He ignored the cough from Peter. Peter really wasn't coughing. Peter was merely trying to get Neal's attention, in what he felt was a covert way. He insisted in hiding the nature of their relationship, even though it was mostly common knowledge. Neal didn't mind. He would be content to follow Peter's lead. He might be content, but he still could have fun twinking the leash on occasion. He blinked, hating to admit how tired he was beginning to feel. He had been at it since 6 am with a report do for the Academy. He had sat up at the kitchen table and studied while El and Peter had slept on. He'd snuck out of bed, though from the slap to his backside from Peter, not totally unnoticed. He knew Peter was worried Neal was working himself to hard trying to do it all. Neal would concede he might be, but he wanted Peter to be proud of him.

"Neal? Earth to Caffery."

Neal looked up, focusing on Peter, or well the most in focus version of Peter. "What? Sorry, I was trying to finish all this up."

"All our paperwork doesn't have to be done in a day, you know. Besides, Hughes is giving you the afternoon to work on Quantico."

"We have the lead on the art theft."

"Yes, which is no closer to coming through today then it was yesterday."

"I know, I'm sorry. I should be reading through that again."

"Neal, its noon."

"What?"

"Noon, as in 12 o'clock in the afternoon, as in the accepted time that most people go out and get something to eat."

"Smartass." Neal opened his folder and pulled out the expense report. "I might just eat something here. I only have $275 left, and I have to pay rent still. That's going to eat up most of my money."

"I'm buying."

"You bought yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that…"

"I happen to like buying you lunch, besides El charges very reasonable rates. Besides, it's in my best interests to keep my partner fed. It keeps him mentally sharp."

Neal got embarrassed. "Sorry, I didn't think I was slipping. Really, you go and I'll look over the folder again."

"You are not slipping. You need to go out and you need something to eat. Maybe if I get lucky, I can get you to sack out on the sofa for a bit."

"Hughes would kill me."

"I can call it meditation. Now, seriously, put on the hat and coat. We are going to lunch."

"Peter.."

"No, Neal. We are going. Any more talking and I'll tell El exactly why her lunch specials are getting cold. You know she hates to waste food."

"I feel like a moocher."

Peter smiled and mussed Neal's hair. "You are certainly no moocher. Now, come on."

Neal blinked and yawned. He looked around for his hat, only to find Peter standing in front of him, very amused, with the hat dangling around his finger.

"You're going to stretch it out of shape like that. This is a fine piece of craftsmanship. It's a fedora. It's a classic. Poor baby, abused by the philistines."

"I am not a Philistine, I'm Scotch-Irish."

Cruz followed them out of the office with her eyes. She was annoyed. She'd been working her butt off to get Peter's attention, starving to hear a rare compliment. Yet, he lavished all his spare attention on this ex-con who seemed to luck into largely whatever he wanted. Hell, he was being given the privilege of doing the Academy by distance learning, with the help of three fawning tutors in Hughes, Peter Burke, and Jones. All this energy wasted on something that, to the FBI would be fundamentally expendable, especially in comparison to Peter Burke.

-


	2. Chapter 2

Warning: This is about an established OT3 relationship of Neal/El/Peter. I apologize if this is a squick to anyone. Also language and whumpage begin next chapter so I want to give you fair warning.

"Are you sure this is okay? I mean, seriously, I can pay something."

"Neal, this is my treat. I happen to enjoy spoiling you and El; so why not just indulge me." Peter turned his attention to the road, a task that sometimes required nearly Herculean control. "It ought to be illegal. You look too adorable when you pout.'

"I am not pouting."

"You are too."

"I am not."

"You are too."

"How am I pouting?"

"Your cute, full lower lip is sticking out. I just want to suck on it. Suck on it and nip it, it reminds me of a fresh strawberry."

"PETER! Now THAT ought to be illegal. You're getting me steamed up and no way to relieve it. You know it turns me on when you do that thing with my lip."

"Really? I had no clue."

"Sadist."

"I told you, I'm Scotch-Irish. The Marque de Sade was French. Besides, had he had someone as adorable as you, I think people could have understood."

"Adorable? That sounds more like how you would describe Satchmo."

"Actually, there are"

"DO NOT go there. If you dare say there are similarities between Satchmo and me, so help me, I'm going to get out of this car and WALK. You get to explain how you happened to show up empty handed."

"I forget, you get cranky when you don't get the sleep."

"I'm sorry. I … I just want you all to be proud of me."

"We already are. Neal, you are doing terrific, though I confess to being totally biased in this regard. Hughes just got an update from Quantico. You impress both of those. I just worry you are going to work yourself into a complete physical and emotional collapse. You don't have to be doing it all on this breakneck clip."

"I suppose not, but I've always lived by burning the candle at both ends. I also feel I have to do it and get it done before someone takes it all away from me." Neal turned his head to the side for a moment. "I stopped missing Kate last night."

"What?"

"Sometimes after the three of us make love, I've thought about Kate. I've dreamed about Kate. I would turn my face into the pillow and cry because it hurt so bad. You or El always there to rub my back, must not do it as quietly as I hope. Anyway last night, I didn't think of Kate, all I thought about was you and El. All I dreamed about was the three of us."

"Good. Neal you are good and decent and you deserve a long and happy life. We like having you here as a part of everything." They drove past the local druggist.

"Shit. Peter can we pull over? My antibiotics are out. I think the doctor said I needed another course. She did. That's why you need to let me know when you get a toothache. There are other ways to fix it before it gets to be root canal."

Peter pulled into the parking lot. "I think I'll grab some more ibuprofen for the kit. It looks a little low."

"You're going in to just keep tabs on me."

"Maybe, maybe not. Never been a bad idea before."

Neal and Peter entered and headed back to the Perscription counter. They froze as the door opened and they heard the cocking of a gun. "This is an armed robbery, or as some of you might prefer a "stick up", We need everyone's hands over their head and to procede to the middle of the store. Now."

"You know how it's never been a bad idea before, well it seems like one right now."


	3. Chapter 3

The guys looked at each other and then surveyed the situation. It didn't look good, but then again they were used to that. They didn't mind. They honestly believed they were the 'dream team' and as long as they were together, they could take down any perp. For right now, the best thing to do was to follow the would-be robbers instructions. Neal sat first and began his obsessive counting. He began counting robbers, then hostages, then guns, then bullets, then whatever else he could find. It helped him think and stay calm. It soothed him. He often wore the same types of outfit for that reason. He knew how many buttons it had. He had to have an even number of buttons. He pitched a fit when he lost one, not so much because of the look – though that was what he would complain the most about – but because it was odd. Odd numbers didn't have the soothing effect.

Peter sat next, watching Neal out of the corner of his eye. Neal didn't like guns. He wouldn't ever tell Peter why, but being in a room with guns set Neal into near panic. He heard the ticking of the clock. There was one point in their favor. The gunmen were confused. It seemed the robbery had been very poorly planned and at least two didn't count on the presence of hostages. Another was walking around with a pillow case collecting valuables. Neal must be loving the sheer cliché of it all. He did hope no one would notice Neal's cross. It was something he wore under his clothes, the only thing he had of his mother. He didn't want to see Neal lose that to some punks on a drug binge. He forced himself to look away, detatched. He couldn't let the gunmen see they were together, at least not until Peter could figure out a plan.

Neal began to finger his cross. He did it sometimes when he was scared. Only a handful of people knew he wore it. He felt so useless right now. He wished again he was braver in the face of guns. Right now he was tired and stressed. He did catch Peter's eye and wink. When it was time, he would be able to do Peter's plan. He knew how to hide his emotions at will. He'd needed to develop the ability to stay alive. He was also finding the pillow case cliché. Peter must have read his mind as he shot Neal a warning to keep his lip in control. Neal was also relieved Peter still had on a bullet proof vest. Peter didn't leave home without it, like an American Express card. The thought did make a peal of laughter bubble up but he knew better then to let it out. He felt a little hurt and cold as Peter looked away. He knew why but the rejection still stung.

The sound of sirens split the air. Now this was a little humiliating to Peter. He was FBI. It was crazy but there was an ego war between the FBI and the NYPD. This would be giving a major blood point in the ego column for NYPD to save 1 ½ FBI agents. Peter would prefer to be able to shut this down himself and sneak out the back with Neal or rather smugly have it shut down and ask the NYPD what took them so long. Now there was possibly the chance of a hostage standoff. Peter would be able to assume some control. He was worried though. The other hostages were of various ages. Also, he was worried Neal's cheeks were beginning to turn flushed. That was the last thing he needed. Neal feverish.

"Who hit the damn silent alarm?" One of the gunman, the most jittery of the group, demanded, waving his gun around.

"Calm down, man. Shit, you're going to shoot someone like that. We don't need that kind of crap on our record." The older of the group attempted to soothe. Peter would keep an eye on this one. This one might be dealt with.

"I don't give a shit right now." The toughguy went up to the very scared blond in a uniform from the drugstore. "I bet it was you, bitch. It was, wasn't it? You look like you think you're just too smart for the rest of us."

The blond lady swallowed hard. She had but she didn't want to admit it. She didn't want to die. She still had a life. She darted her eyes around. She say that Neal's pants leg had ridden up and exposed the tracker. She knew what it was from watching tv shows. She also knew what kind of scum would wear one. Scum were much more deserving of whatever these gunman would hand out then she was. "No way, I'm not stupid." She lied smoothly. "Look over there, there is your narc I bet. He's got a freaking marshal tracker. They probably used it."

Peter hissed in his breath. This was not good. The situation had just entered the red zone. He could see the other hostages turning to look at Neal with barely veiled looks of disgust. Neal was still on the tracker but at the moment for his own safety. They needed a way to locate him fast. Neal was now known in the circles as a narc and a canary. He had a price on his head. Neal didn't really seem to care. Peter normally didn't, except at night when the dreams came. He was stunned at the speed at which the gunman turned on Neal. He had a gun inches from Neal's face.

"So, you're some big bad criminal to get a tracker. What did you do, bonk a kid?"

"Why don't you put the gun down and we'll talk." Neal offered, glad he had the ability to adapt on the fly.

"Why should I listen to you?"

"I've been up the river. You know your partner is right. You don't want innocent blood on your hands. Besides, if you hurt a woman your stock is low on the totem pole inside."

"Maybe it won't be a woman I hurt." The punk smashed Neal over the head a couple of times with the butt of his pistol. Peter tried to speak but was stopped by the youngest gunman holding a gun on a young child.

"Anyone else makes a move or says a damn word, I shoot." The punk cocked the gun to prove his point. "Hey, is all that really necessary?"

"Necessary?" The punk attacking Neal began to kick him. "I don't know. It probably isn't, but it is fun."

Peter winced as he heard ribs cracking. He hated being in this position. He wanted to defend Neal but he couldn't risk the child's life. He wanted to take the punk and rip him apart.

The older gunman growled. He ripped the punk off the unconscious Neal. "Enough! I warned you I didn't want no crap." He shoved the punk away and into a wall. "You don't go beating the crap out of a hostage, especially not one that might have marshals. You damn idiot! Now we got blood." The older man bent down next to Neal. He didn't like what he saw. The young man was a mess. He was relieved at least there was a pulse. He gasped as he saw the face. He knew the young man. He'd done time with him. The kid had saved his life when he'd gotten shanked. "You bastard. This one ain't nothing like you thought. This is the gutsy Ghandi that saved me when I was shanked. You asshole. The kid didn't have a violent bone in his body. We called him Ghandi because he refused to carry any weapons. No one wanted to mess with him either. He would always be there to write letters and shit. He also could draw" He picked up one of Neal's hands and stroked it, dismayed it had been stepped on, "like no one'd ever seen. You just tell him 'bout your person on the outside and he could draw it, better then a photo." The older man looked up and saw the police. He knew it was a hostage situation and he also knew it wasn't going to go well. "Kid didn't deserve this." He stood up. "Anyone here know anything about wounds and first aid and shit?"

Peter raised his hand. He could at least do something for Neal. "I can, I've had some training with treating wounds." He noticed an older matronly lady. "I was a medic in 'Nam. I was at China Beach."

"Alright, you two come here and help him." The older man bent down again and stroked Neal's hand. "You hang in there Ghandi." He stood up and pointed at the clerk. "Whatever you need, you tell this here lady and I'm sure she'll be happy to oblige, right?" The young lady nodded mutely.

"We need bandages and water to start with. You should also get into that pop case and get everyone else a water. Get us some clean towels too. NOW!" The older woman commanded in a voice that reminded Peter of the instructors at Quantico. She got up and walked over to Neal, Peter on her heels.


	4. Update

I wanted to invite you to a fanfic exchange list which is open to multiple fandoms. It is for people to request specific stories you would like to have written. It is though for either gen or slash. Here is the link and I hope to see you there.

.com/the_ff_exchange/

Want to reassure you I haven't abandoned this, nor any of my stories, not by a long shot Just have undergone some medical testing that took priority in my mind and choked out the muses for a while. I appreciate your patience in bearing with me. All my stories will be updated this weekend.

Huffy


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